Hers
by I-Like-2-Taboo
Summary: Alex thinks back to how she made Justin hers. WARNING: JALEX. incest. Implied sexual encounters.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Disney or Wizards of Waverly Place._

_Never thought of this pairing until I saw some interesting pieces on it on LiveJournal and thought that I should give it a shot._

_WARNING! INCEST! JALEX. Justin + Alex Russo._

* * *

He was contemplating on telling her that he was a wizard.

At first Alex really hadn't worried much about Miranda. Sure she was pretty, and _sure_, she was the first girl Justin had shown an interest in with whom he'd been able to start a relationship with, but the young witch was sure that the relationship wasn't going to last long.

No one understood or appreciated Justin Russo like Alex did, nobody knew his every peeve, knew how to tease and taunt him until he turned that sexy red, his body tense like a spring twisted too tightly.

But despite every other little obsession, despite every little thing that went against them, Miranda and Justin weren't breaking up, not even showing a sign of wanting to, and Justin had confided to Alex the night before that he was seriously considering telling the other girl the truth.

And that was when Alex knew that she had to do something or she'd lose her brother.

So she'd lied, manipulated feelings and situations, and used magic even more liberally than ever. Yet unlike the other times, she'd done so carefully, making sure never to leave a trail that would lead back to her and prove that she'd been responsible for Miranda's sudden change of heart, for her hurtful rejection of Justin in the school cafeteria.

She'd felt horrible when she'd seen her brother's heart breaking right in front of her, and yet Alex Russo knew that she'd done the right thing. The dark haired beauty had played the part expected of her, she'd listened to Justin pouring out his heart to her when he just couldn't take it any more, and she'd let him know that Miranda wasn't the one for him, and that _she_ would always be there for him.

He hadn't understood the double meaning to her words. Despite being so annoyingly smart, the boy was dense when it came to female matters, but considering how Harper tried to insinuate every day how interested she was in him, well, his obliviousness was probably a good thing.

And slowly their relationship began to change, to head closer and closer towards the type Alex had wanted ever since she'd realized exactly _what_ made her feelings for Justin different than any other sister. They spent more time together, fought less, and their touches were beginning to linger.

Their parents were too happy to have them growing close and paying attention in Magic Lessons to really look deeper, and Max simply didn't care. The youngest Russo was happy with his magic, and really didn't notice anything that didn't have to do with him and his new abilities.

And with Justin and Alex getting along better, neither getting into trouble like they used to, Jerry and Theresa were more comfortable to go out and leave them alone. The two young Russos found themselves staying in most evenings, AC on, snuggling together on the sofa, watching television and using a large warm blanket and their accumulated body heat to keep warm.

And when Alex's legs rested against Justin's lap, it went by uncommented, as did her shifting her body until it nearly melding into his, leaning her head against his shoulder, her arm around him under the blanket. As the nights went by, Alex tested the boundaries Justin had unknowingly placed on them, and every night she went to the bed having made progress yet wondering if Justin realized what she was doing.

It was only the night when her hand 'accidentally' moved to his crotch while she'd been pretending to sleep as they watched some movie, that Alex had realized that Justin was more aware of what was going on than she'd given him credit for. Despite the fact that she couldn't move her hand, couldn't explore the long, throbbing manhood shielded by the jeans of his pants without acknowledging what they both knew--that she was awake--Alex felt the heat of him as he pulsed at the slight pressure of her hand on him.

He'd avoided her the week afterwards, and while Alex had expected him to act that way, it'd still stung. She lashed out in the only way she could, by provoking him in any way she could, and at first she worried that he wasn't reacting, and then she'd heard him.

She'd gone to his room to confront him when she'd heard her name on his lips, followed by groans and whimpers of pleasure, and her eyes had gone wide as she realized what was going on. Realized _what_ her brother was doing on the other side of the door.

Smiling, she'd left him to continue and she'd redoubled her efforts, provoking him with tiny skirts and low-cut shirts, and going to his door every night, never failing to hear her name moaned on his lips.

And one night, when their parents had gone out and Max was over a friend's, she'd entered his room while he was still whispering her name.

He'd been ashamed, embarrassed and angry, but most of all he'd wanted her, and after shouts and arguments they'd fallen on his bed and he'd taken her, claiming her, making her a woman and making her _his_.

And while he'd tried apologizing afterwards, tried denying what'd happened between them, Alex knew that he'd felt it too, knew that now that he'd crossed the last boundary that there would be no going back.

She'd never gone back to his room after that first night, and despite his denying, his arguments, despite _everything_, Justin would wait till the dead of night, when everyone was asleep, and would slip into her room--into _her_.

Because he was _hers_.

And while he knew how wrong it was, he couldn't fight it.

And didn't want to.

Alex smiled as she felt his heartbeat against her ear as they cuddled in her bed. He never spoke after they made love, as if still trying to deny what they did every night, but unlike the first couple of months Justin stayed with her till a couple of hours before sunrise, didn't leave immediately after they'd finished.

His fingers caressed her hair lovingly, _possessively_, and she knew that he was awake, looking at her ceiling, his thoughts a conflictive battle.

But she didn't care.

Didn't care that even now he was trying to fight what they had.

And she didn't care because she knew that he would always come upon the same conclusion that brought him back to her bed every night.

Bad or wrong, she loved him unlike any other woman would, and she wouldn't let him go. She accepted him for who and what he was, and despite all the things he considered flaws against him, she wanted him. She loved him.

He was hers.

Maybe one day he'd finally, _truly_ accept it.

**Fin.**


End file.
